


i'd never say a word

by Macremae



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Femslash, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 17:35:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16706911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macremae/pseuds/Macremae
Summary: Karla is a musician. Vanessa makes an assumption. Newt and Hermann try to mediate.





	i'd never say a word

Newt meets Karla Gottlieb at a bar on a Tuesday, nursing a light beer with Hermann next to him, gin and tonic in hand.

She’s tall, taller than Hermann, with boyishly short brown hair and a lanky frame that seems even taller in her sensible Oxfords. Her clothes fit only slightly better than her brother’s usual fare; a sweater over a collared shirt and blue jeans. She has a soft smile and deep dimples, and Newt likes her immediately.

“Hullo,” says Karla, shaking his hand warmly. “You must be Newton. I’ve heard quite a bit about you.”

Newt grins. “Call me Newt,” he replies, “only my boyfriend calls me Newton.”

Beside him Hermann blushes. “It’s good to see you again, Karla.”

She pats her brother on the shoulder and steals a sip of his drink. “And to you, _mein freund_. It’s been far too long.”

“Are you doing the open mic night here?” Newt asks. Karla raises a guitar case in reply.

“Just a cover tonight. But yes.”

“Cool!” he says, giving her a thumbs up. “Lemme buy you a drink.”

She orders something called the “Green Door Sunset”, and they sit crammed in the booth while the emcee sets up. Newt helps tune up Karla’s guitar as it adjusts to the sweaty bar atmosphere, sizing up the make of it with the eye of a seasoned musician.

“Martin 1976,” he says appraisingly. “Nice choice. I’m more of a Gibson man myself, but to each their own.”

Hermann rolls his eyes. “Terribly sorry,” he whispers, “he’s very pretentious about this sort of thing.”

“Are _you_ seriously calling me pretentious?” Newt shoots back.

“I’m still right.”

He snorts. “Okay Mr. ‘handwriting of God’.”

Karla nearly spits out her drink. “I’m sorry-- he said what?”

Newt and Hermann devolve into bickering (Karla watches, jealous, could she ever find a love like that?) until a voice calls out from across the bar, “Hermy!”

All three heads turn to see a woman practically skipping towards them, wild hair flying out behind her. Her heavily freckled skin is creamy brown and flushed, eyes sparkling like amber. She’s got curves like _whoa_ with a fashion sense to match; everything she’s wearing looks straight out of Vogue: a yellow peplum top, tight black skirt, short leather boots, and an enormous jean jacket that almost swallows her tiny frame.

Hermann smiles. “Vanessa,” he says, “good to see you.”

She drops her Valentino bag on the seat and gives him a kiss on the cheek, then Karla, then Newt. “So! How are my favorite nerds doing?”

At the kiss, Karla goes red. “Good,” she says flatly, staring down at her drink. Newt frowns.

“We’re great, ‘Ness,” he says, side-eyeing Karla. “Glad you could make it.” Vanessa goes up to the bar to grab a strawberry daiquiri and Newt elbows Karla. “Dude, you okay?”

Karla stares down at her glass as if it holds all the secrets of the universe. “Yes. Fine. Thank you.”

He looks to Hermann for help, but he looks just as confused as Newt.

When Vanessa comes back, pink drink in hand, she plops down next to Karla and sidles up close. “Karla, I’m so excited for you; you’re gonna do amazing!”

Karla smiles softly. “Thank you.”

“So how’s writing treating you?” Newt asks. Vanessa sips her daiquiri and lights up.

“It’s, like, honestly really different from modeling? I think I have a good background that helps me connect with the people more, but asking the right questions is hard. You have to prime them for the second one with the first one.” She picks at a slightly chipped nail. “I really like it, though. Way more interesting than just standing in front of a camera all day.”

“You work for Cosmo, right?” says Newt. Vanessa nods.

“Mmhmm. Cover interviews.”

“See, teaching is way different; it’s basically about a hundred students in a lecture hall that are usually hungover and horny as shit, and they all just want to get the notes and go home. The trick is keeping them awake while you teach them.”

“Newty, I hate to break it to you, but most of the people I talk to are hungover as well.”

They laugh at that, and Karla gives Vanessa this shy look that Newt can’t quite decipher. “I don’t talk to most people on digs,” she says. “We mainly-- well. Dig. For things.”

“Found any dinosaur bones?” Newt asks eagerly. Karla gives him a look.

“I’m an archeologist,” she says, “not a paleontologist.”

“Shame. I have some samples that would blow your fucking mind.”

“Among other things,” mutters Hermann under his breath, and Newt kicks him under the table.

The emcee finishes setting up and taps the microphone. “Hey!” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “My name’s Dory, and welcome to Ranger’s Bar. We’ve got some great folks performing for you tonight, so grab a drink and enjoy the show. Fist up is… Winona G?

Winona G. takes the stage with a beat up electric guitar and tunes it for a moment before adjusting the mic stand. She plucks the strings before launching into a cover of Throw Shade by CRUISR; her voice is low and throaty, with a rough quality that sounds crunchy next to the smooth chords. After a few more songs she exits to a smattering of applause.

“Nice job!” Newt calls out to her, and she shoots him a grin. Next is a shaggy-looking man who plays a variety of Beatles covers, two women who wing a song by First Aid Kit, and a band called Oral Comm plays two originals that sound more like screaming than words. Finally, Karla grabs her guitar and swallows.

“I’m next,” she says, picking her way up to the stage. Dory nods at her, and she plugs in her guitar and sits down.

“Right,” she says into the mic, “hello. My name is Karla. I’ll be playing a song by Dodie called ‘She’. It’s about…” she pauses and licks her lips, “Well. You’ll figure it out I suppose.” Then, with a twist of her pick, she launches into the song.

“ _Am I allowed  
To look at her like that  
Could it be wrong  
When she’s just so nice to look at_”

Beside Hermann, Vanessa sucks in a breath. Her face is tawny pink, and her eyes are huge as she stares at Karla onstage.

“ _She smells like lemongrass and sleep  
She tastes like apple juice and peach  
You would find her  
In a polaroid picture  
She means everything to me_”

Her voice is sweet and quiet and full of an aching sort of longing. There’s a tender expression on her face, almost pained. Hermann and Newt share a glance and suddenly everything makes sense. Karla isn’t singing this about just anyone. She’s singing this about Vanessa. 

“ _And I’d be okay admiring from afar  
Cause even when she’s next to me we could not be more far apart  
Cause she tastes like birthday cake and storytime and fall  
But to her  
I taste of nothing at all  
She smells like lemongrass and sleep  
She tastes like apple juice and peach  
You would find her  
In a polaroid picture  
She means everything to me_”

Karla finishes to a good deal of applause, and looks out over the audience tentatively. Vanessa meets her eye for just a moment, before getting up and walking out of the bar.

Karla’s face falls. She puts her guitar back in its case and trudges slowly to their booth where Newt and Hermann are waiting.

“Karla,” Hermann begins, but Karla just puts her case down and turns around without a word, following Vanessa’s path to the door.

☆♬○♩●♪✧♩　　♩✧♪●♩○♬☆

The night air is cool and crisp this late into fall, especially when Karla steps outside. Vanessa isn’t out front, but a look into the alleyway next door shows a figure leaning against the wall. Karla takes a few steps forward and calls out, “Vanessa?”

Vanessa freezes like a deer in headlights and glances to her right. Her chest is rising and falling quickly, and her face is flushed like she’s been holding her breath.

“Oh-- bugger,” says Karla, rushing forward. Without thinking, she takes Vanessa’s hands in hers and squeezes them tightly. “Alright, ‘Nessa, alright, you’re fine. There’s nothing to worry about-- just breathe. In for four out for for, yes?”

Vanessa nods meekly and takes a deep breath. “Yeah,” she says, “okay.” She sucks in air and lets it out slowly, beginning to breathe normally again. Karla breathes with her, more than a little anxious herself, and together they bring their heart rates back to normal and calm down.

After a minute or two, Karla realizes she’s still holding Vanessa’s hands. She blushes and lets go quickly. “Sorry.”

“No!” Vanessa says, “No, it’s fine-- thank you.”

They stand silently for what feels like hours, unable to decide what to do. Vanessa leans back against the wall and tilts her head to rest on the brick. She blows out a breath. “Did you think it was funny?”

Karla snaps to attention and blinks. “What?”

“The song. The joke. My feelings about you. Funny, right?” Vanessa doesn’t meet her eyes, glancing down at the ground.

“Nessa,” Karla says hesitantly, “why would you think that was a joke?”

“Because you’re obviously one of those girls that’s fine with gay guys but totally hates lesbians!” she bursts out. “When it’s Newt and your brother you’re like, oh okay when it’s men I’m fine, but the moment girl like, I dunno: me, starts flirting with you, you hate it!”

“Hate it?” Karla repeats.

“Oh please, like I haven’t noticed how uncomfortable you are when I’m nice to you. I get it, okay? It was kinda sucky being made fun of the whole time, but singing a fucking song about how pathetic I am? That’s just cruel, Karla.”

Vanessa starts to cry as she speaks, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes. Karla stands frozen for a moment, her heart aching, before slowly bringing her hand up to wipe away a tear. She rests her hand on Vanessa’s cheek, eyes tender and hopeful, and smiles softly.

“Oh Nessa,” she breathes, “you’re a bloody fool.”

Karla closes the charged space between them slowly, giving Vanessa plenty of time to pull away. When she doesn’t, she gently presses their lips together and wraps her other arm around Vanessa’s waist. The other woman is frozen for a moment, then surges forward with a gasp to tangle a hand in Karla’s tousled hair. 

Karla opens her mouth and let’s Vanessa’s curious tongue slide in, tasting the fruity chill of her drink. She smells like Marc Jacobs Daisy and hair oil, and something so truly Vanessa that Karla’s dizzy with wanting. Nessa tugs on her hair and Karla can’t help but let out a little moan. She jerks back and stares at Karla with wide eyes.

“Was that okay?” Vanessa asks quickly. Karla, eyes blown dark, nods.

“I-- yes. I think I like that.”

Her breath hitches. “Karla… is this your first kiss?”

Karla shys away. “I mean-- it’s not like there was anyone else lining up to… oh, you know.”

Vanessa frowns and kisses her again. “That’s stupid. I mean-- not that you’re stupid; you’re not. It’s just dumb that you think no one’s wanted to kiss you before.” She laughs. “I have ever since we were, like, twelve.”

“Twelve?!”

“Yeah!” 

Karla’s eyes shine like twin stars, and she cups Vanessa’s face in her hands. “Vanessa Valentine,” she says firmly, voice quavering only a little, “I love you so bloody much I think I might burst.”

Vanessa kisses her nose. “Pretty cool then, ‘cause I love you too.” Her face lights up. “Does this mean we’re girlfriends?”

“If you’d like?” Karla replies, face warming. “I-- I don’t want to move too fast for you--”

“Karla. Baby. Snugglebug. We’ve known each other our entire lives. I’ve seen you throwing up in the bathroom with a fever of a hundred and three, and you’ve seen me crying after I haven’t eaten in forty-eight hours. I get you. And you get me. I don’t think there’s _any_ conceivable way we could take this too fast.”

She leans in again, and their lips meet in a gentle crash of sparks and strawberry. Karla sighs softly into Vanessa’s mouth, moving aside to kiss her cheek, then her jaw. “I love you,” she says, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“I love you too,” says Vanessa, and Karla may still be learning this lesbian thing, but she thinks she’s doing a pretty good job already.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @bae-science and twitter @callmenewto


End file.
